"Elfwood" by Jessica J Zimdars

As I sat, motionless, in the woods contemplating the trees and the little things that live in them a voice came softly on the wind. It came so very softly that as first I could not discern any words, nor was I truly sure that I had heard it.

But, even doubtful as I was of the whisper’s reality, I sensed such a pure sadness in that whisper that I thought my heart would break. I looked around and could almost believe that the branches were drooping and the great trunks were shuddering as though they were sobbing.

Again came that sorrowful whisper, blending so gracefully with the gentle wind. A squirrel stopped beside a nearby tree, one front paw resting lighting on the trunk. It looked at me and I knew it felt the same sorrow that I could hear on the wind.

Now all around me was silence. Silence the like of which I had never heard before. Silence of such intensity that I wondered if the forest were holding its breath. I wondered if all of the forest was waiting to see what would happen. Waiting for the whisper to come again.

The sun was slowly sinking past the horizon, making the shadows so thick that each seemed almost more real then the trees that made them. I thought of standing but decided against it, for a reason that even I can not explain I feared breaking that silence.

For a third time I heard the whisper, but now I thought it sounded more like a sigh. A sigh that bears the burden of such grief that no man would ever be able to bare it without his heart braking. It was a sound that haunts me still, a sound that calls up such sadness that I was such my heart would brake.

The silence around me was so deep and the silence so empathic that I could bare it no longer. Still fearful of breaking the silence with too harsh a sound I spoke two questions softly into the stillness. "Who are you? Where are you?"

"Who are you?" My question floated back to me, carried on that beautiful yet mournful sigh as a figure of such grace stepped out of the deepening shadows. It was far too tall to be a child, and yet its face held such innocence that I couldn’t believe it to be anything but a child.

It’s build was delicate and so very graceful, I wondered if it were real. Dressed in flowing robes, richly embroidered and with hair long and fine as silk I could not tell if it was a man or a woman that held me in awe.

As I stood there listless the beautiful being spoke again, its voice more musical and sweet then any I have ever heard. Yet, the sadness I had heard on the wind was there as well, "Child of man, what brings you here to these ancient woods?"

Feeling that my own voice was harsh I only spoke softly, how else could a mortal hope to speak to one of the elven kind? "I come here often as I can." I managed to stammer, feeling that my tongue was clumsy. "Are you the one who…"

The elf nodded, understanding what I had meant to say so I did not have to finish. I meant to ask it was the matter was, but the words seemed to stick on my lips as the elf joined me on the fallen tree where I sat. Somehow, even now I can not explain it, I knew that this was a lord of the elven realm.

"Magic is leaving the world. Soon there will be no real magic left among the race of men. As the magic fades my people fade away as well." He spoke sadly as if he’d heard my unspoken question already. As he spoke I could feel his sorrow deepening.

"Can it be stopped? Can your people to saved?" I asked the question quickly, knowing that I would not be able to bare it if this wonderful being next to me were to vanish. I could not imagine a world in which there was no magic, what of dreams? Would they fade as well?

He slowly shook his head; even that small admission seemed to deepen his sorrow. "This I know not. The magic fades because men give up their dreams. Instead of fighting for that which moves their hearts they give it up and go after lesser things."

His sadness gripped my heart and I was positive that, should I not do something, this sorrow would never leave me until I wasted away from it. "Is there no way at all that I could help? Is there nothing as all that I could do?"

The elf looked at me solemnly then took me by the hand and stood, pulling me to my feet. "Believe. Believe in what your kind say does not exist. Teach others to believe by telling them all that you have seen, felt and heard."

"But, how can I teach others to believe? None would ever believe that I have spoken to one of your kind." I knew this to be true, though I hated having to admit it. Somehow I sensed that this was the foundational problem. None could believe in anything this wonderful.

He had only to think for a moment before answering. "You say that you come here often. Then, when you come, listen. Listen to the stories that these trees may wish to share with you. Listen with your heart and you will hear. Then go back and share the stories with all who will listen."

I could feel hope rising, chasing back the sorrow, lifting the weight from my heart. "And this will save you?" I asked it though I scarcely dared to really believe it. It seemed so simple a task, and one that I knew I could do.

He nodded, "Yes, Child of man. Doing this will keep my people from fading, it will keep us alive. And it will keep the magic true because it will give life to dreams in the hearts of any who listen." The he released my hands.

As he started to walk away, the shadows slowly enveloping him as though he walked through many sheer curtains. I felt frozen to where I stood. Fear of failure danced through my mind. "But, where do I start?" I asked the elf urgently,

He stopped and looked back at me. "Start here." Ws all that he said before the shadows wrapped fully around him and took him from my view. But his voice whispered softly from the darkness, "Start by telling of the elfwood."

I started at he place where he’d been for a long time before slowly making my own way out of the woods. From that day on Elfwood is what I call that old forest because in that forest I learned that elves are realm. Or at least they are just so long as one believes.